


Monkey Wrench

by IMAgentMI, PFLAgentYork (Legendaerie)



Series: Post-PFL RP AU [8]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M, Rough Sex, Temperature Play, auto puns, garage role play, seriously, so many auto puns, there should be a law against some of these puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 03:16:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16824016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IMAgentMI/pseuds/IMAgentMI, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Legendaerie/pseuds/PFLAgentYork
Summary: Carolina goes out to see what York is working on in the garage.Soon, it's her.





	Monkey Wrench

It's a warm day in winter, and York is glad to take the opportunity to check out the underbody of the truck. With snow in the forecast, he wants to make completely sure that everything works the way it should. Flat on his back on a thin mat with a flashlight held between his teeth, he adjusts his goggles and checks out the brake pads. They could use a replacement if it gets icy, but can’t afford them. Maybe if he can find more UNSC gear to sell from what they salvaged on the run...

Carolina moves into the garage, her long, slow strides exaggerated further by her pair of black high heels, the only pair of shoes that she owns that aren’t made for running. Her first steps on concrete are a relief from the gravel on the driveway shifting under her shoes, and her heels make a satisfying soft click against the garage floor with each step. 

York is half under the car, his hips and legs the only parts of him visible. With a small smile, Carolina steps about even where she guesses his head might be, removes her cardigan and drops it to the ground.

At the muffled thud, York tilts his head back to look. He sees a pile of fabric and Carolina’s legs in boot cut jeans, and makes a soft sound of curiosity without realizing.

“Lina bean? Think you dropped something.”

Carolina grins wider and removes her shirt, dropping it to the floor as well.

“Uh.” York blinks.

Rolling her eyes, she reaches back to unhook her bra, sliding the straps over her shoulders before letting it drop.

There’s a meaty thud under the truck as York tries to sit up too fast. He yelps, lays back down and touches his forehead. He can't feel any blood, at least. Just sweat. And grease. And maybe oil too. Not that he really pays much attention, since Carolina is right there and taking off her clothes, and he can hardly get moving fast enough.

He scrambles out from under the car and tries to lean seductively on the hood. His hand misses the first time. Undeterred, York skips the posing part and just glides around the truck to crowd her against the side, hands bracing himself up on either side of her body.

“Hey there,” he purrs, trying on his best gruff mechanic voice. “Can I…” he looks her up and down with his lower lip in his teeth, “help you with something, ma’am?”

“Well, I could use someone to check under my hood. Probably am due for a lube job. Might need you to slide your dipstick in and check my fluids.”

Carolina leans back further against the truck, trying to ignore how her nipples are quickly getting painfully hard, and goosebumps are popping out all over her body. 

“Do you now?” York rubs his thumb against her hipbone, slides his hand up her body so slowly he can feel her shiver with impatience. He leans in close, just barely dragging his lips against hers. “I suppose I could fit you in now.”

He flicks a glance down when he’s finally touching her breast, nipple trapped between two fingers. Her breath hitches, but he’s distracted by the dirt he’s left on her already. It looks good on her pale, soft skin.

“Nice headlights,” he jokes, facade cracking as he tries not to laugh.

Carolina leans back further, eyes rolling back in complete exasperation. “Really, York? Really?”

“It was the first thing that came to mind! Also most of my blood is already in my--”

“It’s going to be all over the floor of this garage if you don’t step up your game and fuck me already.” The steely look she gives him heats up as she grabs the front of his shirt and yanks him in for a kiss. “Why don’t you show me where you like to keep your favourite tool?” 

York tweaks her nipple as he grins into the kiss. “Yes, ma’am,” and he picks her up by the thighs, wrapping her legs around his waist, and carries her over to his work bench. There's a horrific clatter as he shoves tools and a couple dishes out of her way to sit her down, and he ducks down to work on unbuttoning her pants with his mouth.

A little shiver runs up Carolina’s spine as she watches him work, paired with a thrill of anticipation, knowing it won’t take long for him to find out just how wet she is already, how wet she’s been since she first had this idea in the house. She drags her nails through his hair, across his scalp, scratching gentle designs through his locks, punctuated by tiny tugs whenever a chirp of arousal escapes her lips.

It takes him way, way too long to get them unfastened, but when he does he whisks both her panties and pants down with her help. When they fall away, he notices her heels and growls in appreciation.

“All this for me?” 

“If it was all for me, could you even tell the difference?” Carolina seizes a handful of his hair, tilting his head back as she kisses her way down his throat. “When we both want the same thing?”

Carolina lets go abruptly, bringing her knees up on either side of him, stroking over his hips with the inside of her thighs. “What do you want, York? Because whatever it is, I want it, too.”

“I--” he swallows, has to stop himself from leaning in and kissing her again. “Are you cold?” 

Sliding her legs back down, Carolina leans forward until their lips are almost brushing, pulling her shoulders back to draw his attention lower. “I won’t be for long.”

Distracted, York ducks down to latch his mouth onto her breast, the one unsoiled by dirt and grease. His hand on her lower back coaxes her to arch it, wrapping her legs around him to match the curve of him as he bends over her, pressing her against his mouth. Her skin is starting to feel cold, despite the space heater a few feet away; he rubs at her back, intent on warming her from friction or desire or both.

The warmth and pleasure of his mouth is a sharp contrast to the new wave of goosebumps sweeping over her body. She clenches her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering, so her moan comes from deep in her throat. 

He pulls away with a wet smack, steps to the side just enough to hook his heel around the heater and drag it closer to where they’re standing. “Want you just--” he kisses her, firm but gentle, on the mouth. “Like this. All bare and soft,” and he drags his knuckles along her side, “all for me.”

This shiver has nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the barely there edge in York's voice, the heat in his eyes. Normally he is only too happy to hand her the reins, and gets off on seeing to her own pleasure. But on those few occasions when he has something he wants and he's in the mood to take control, it is always memorable.

“You're the only one I would ever let see me soft.” And she feels soft, her eyes half closed and lazy, even as aroused as she is. Her lips brush over his mouth, his cheek, her breath tiny warm puffs into his skin. One leg glides down his again, the toe of her shoe just reaching the concrete.

“Do you want me like this?” Her voice drops to barely a whisper, her mouth almost against his ear. “Or do you want me to turn around?”

“No, let’s--” he coaxed her forward, careful not to pull her toward him on the bench. “Just like this. So you can touch yourself while we fuck and I can watch.” 

York strokes his fingers down her stomach, leaving a faint trail of grime down her skin. “Dirty hands, remember?” And the grin he flashes her is pure lust.

Heart speeding up, Carolina drags her hand down York's chest until her fingertips just barely catch on the waist of his pants. “Does that mean I'm going to have to help you out?” She spreads her legs just enough more to get his attention. “Then help you in?”

“It might,” he concedes, nuzzling her lips as he reaches above and behind her for the condoms. “Think you’re up to the task?”

“As long as you are.” She grinds the back of her hand along the front of York's jeans, feeling the fabric tight over his erection. “Mmm...seems like you have that well in hand.” She plucks a condom from his fingertips as he brings it into view. “And in just a moment, so will I.”

“So chatty.” York leans in, bares his teeth and drags a canine tooth along her collarbone. “Maybe you need a more thorough inspection?”

He presses his palm against the inside of her thigh, spreading her open as he nips the side of her neck.

“What do you think?” 

Her groan is feather light, barely there but heartfelt. “Sounds like this could get expensive. Maybe we should discuss payment.”

“No. This is on the house.” He pushes a little bit harder, stroking along the sensitive skin, tracing the line where her leg meets her hip. Bites her again, just the edges of his teeth, his other hand holding him up as he leans into her, crowding her against the desk. 

“Sometimes my engine just starts to rev. For no reason. I can't explain it. Maybe you can find the cause.” Carolina’s eyes dip down only briefly as she pops the snap on York's jeans, then meet his own again as she eases down his zipper. 

To his credit, his eyelids only flutter as she just barely touches him through his underwear. “Might have to get in pretty deep for that. Sound good?”

“Be as thorough as you need.” Carolina slides her fingers just under the elastic of York's briefs, letting her fingernails drag over his hip bones before easing his underwear down enough to free his cock. She leans forward as her her hand closes around him, her lips brushing his as she gives him a couple soft, slow strokes. “Whatever it takes to really get a grip on the problem.”

He exhales against her mouth, rolling his hips against her grip, slow as honey. Before they can kiss, he grabs a handful of her hair and forces her head back, peppering her with gentle kisses down her jugular vein in contrast to his rough treatment. His other hand slithers between them, stroking around her sensitive sex mere centimeters from where she’s wet and swollen with want, exposing hot flesh to cold air.

“Seem to know your way around a tool, ma’am,” he rasps against her throat. “Why don't you do us the honors?” 

Carolina moans softly under his touch,managing to twist her head further to encourage him. “I'd love to. You gonna let me sit up, or do I need to do it blind?”

“Blind.” Releasing her hair, he tears open the condom packet with his teeth, presses the rubber into her hand. “It's only fair.”

Carolina closes her eyes to try and concentrate, but it's hard to even tell if she is holding the condom correctly. And when York leans forward to kiss her throat again, the sensation nearly wipes her mind blank. “Not gonna make this easy for me, hmm?”

“Nope.” He laughs into her skin, scraping his teeth along her jawline. “Gonna make it as hard for you as it is for me, knowing you’re so ready and I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

“The harder you make it for me, the longer it will take for you, don't forget.” A little experimenting helps her figure out which way the condom unrolls, and she caps it over the head of York's cock and sheathes it completely in a few quick strokes. “How's that?”

“Knew you could do it.” The sound he makes is more sigh than groan. “Now…” he takes her wrist in his hand, guides her to guide him in and loses the rest of his quip as he breaches her.

She’s too tight from this angle to enter easily and York freezes in indecision; unwilling to hurt her but choking on how good this new angle is. “Fucking hell,” he moans, voice sharp. “Let me try that again.”

Instead, Carolina wraps her legs around him, leaning back slightly before forcing him deeper. Ankles crossed behind him, she locks him in more securely than any prison. “What's the matter? The job more complicated than you thought? Will you need to work overtime?”

York fights back a strangled wail, biting his tongue and sinking his fingernails into the bench. It’s good, really good - and now that he’s inside her, finally, finally, he’s lost a bit of the plot.

“Oh my god,” and his forehead hits her shoulder as he slides another half inch in, the angle still tight but not painful. “Oh, oh, Carolina--”

“You're gonna have to put your key all the way in my ignition if you want to rev my engine.” Carolina tries to move against him, but from this angle it is nearly impossible. “Sitting like this, I can't do all the work today. You're gonna have to take the wheel.” 

York sinks his teeth into her shoulder, mind wiped blank as he bottoms out, oblivious to the world outside their bodies. When he manages to let go, he leaves a little row of impressions in her skin that he kisses wildly as he starts to move in earnest as much as he can between the confines of her legs.

“Nice work--” he gasps, “--on the-- lubrication. Feels really smooth. Sorry for the dents, I lost my grip for a second.”

“I love to see my mechanic so passionate in his work,” she purrs. “Maybe you can give me tips on how to use a stickshift at some point. I think I'm already rather skilled, but am always willing to learn to get better.”

“Sure,” York manages to force out as he settles into a rhythm, one hand braces on the table behind her and the other on the wall. He meets her eyes as he pushes back in, as deep as he can, and sighs at how perfect it feels. 

“In the meantime,” and he leans in close enough his lips brush her ear as he whispers. “Why don't you come get your hands a little dirty?”

“Like this?” Leaning back, Carolina watches him through half closed eyes as she teases her fingers up the inside of her leg. She takes her time, eyes on his face as her fingers glide along where their bodies meet, growing slick against his cock. Curling her fingers around him, she gets a firm grip at his base. 

The air leaves his lungs in a shuddering sigh and he holds her gaze as a fresh wave of want sweeps over him. “Yeah,” York breathes. “Like that.” 

Her fingertips are cool and teasing along the base of his cock, chill against his bare skin where the condom stops. It reminds him of when they’d played around with ice, and he bites his lip at the memory.

“York…” Carolina can't properly stroke him like this, with less than an inch of space to move. Instead she tightens her grip slightly, sitting up closer so she lean in close. With her other hand, she cups his chin, holding his attention. 

“...move.” 

He lets his words drip off his lips like syrup. “Yes, ma’am.” Leaning forward to kiss her, York eases out a little and pushes back in, slowly, so slowly. He knows it has to be frustrating her but she’s so tight he can't bring himself to move faster for fear he’d come before her. 

“Hope you don't mind me taking my time,” and he finally is flush against her, in all the way, feeling her tense around him in little shockwaves, “but when I've got a job to do I like to do it well.” He grabs her hair again, pulling harder than before, until she’s resting on her elbows and it's easier to roll his hips against her, fluid like a piston. “Want to get a good review for my work, you know.”

Carolina’s eyes flutter closed as her head is pulled back. “You’ll get it. I am very impressed with your performance so far.” She cant stifle her moan as he surges into her.”You offer a very thorough service.” 

“Glad to hear it. Wouldn't wanna miss a spot,” and he strokes the inside of her raised legs, nudging them to open. “Wanna go over such a fine machine inch…” York rolls his hips, fully sheathed in her, and wrings a soft noise from her throat. “By inch.”

“York.” His deepest thrust is enough to drive all else from her mind, everything but the feel of him, her need for more. Positioned like this, arms pinned behind her by her own weight, there is no way for her to pull him closer except with her legs. “God… I want… I need…”

“Yes?” he teases, smoothing his hands along her skin. He doesn't leave much dirt behind - other ideas of skin safe paints cross his mind for later. “Use your words, ma’am. Tell me--” and on impulse he grabs a socket wrench and drags the cool, smooth head down her skin, “--what to do.”

The unexpected touch of the wrench makes her gasp, lock up around him for a second. She shudders as he keeps moving, bends herself further backwards, making a show of being open and willing for him. “Keep touching me. Everywhere. I want all of you, touching all of me.” She wrenches her head up to meet his eyes for a moment, then drops back down with a groan. “I love you. All of you. With all my heart.”

“Lina,” he croons as he arches over her, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “You say sweet things like that and I can't stay in character.” 

The tenderness in his smile robs his words of any serious complaint, and he strokes the tool down her body again, up and down as he kisses her careful and chaste.

“Don't feel you have to stop.” Carolina lets her voice drop, low and husky. “You've been doing so well. You've got me eating out of your filthy hands.” Biting her lip, Carolina looks him up and down. “I love my dirty boy.”

“Yeah?” he asks, lacing their fingers together and pinning her hand beside her head, anchoring himself above her. “Good. I love making you want it, want me. Almost as much as I love giving it to you.”

With the wrench, he starts to trace little circles around her nipples, teasing her with the cold.

Shivering, she tries to steal another kiss. “I always want you.” 

York hovers just out of her reach, letting his lips brush hers but pulling away at the last second. Carolina wears high heels when she wants to be rough; her to him or him to her, either. So rough he will be.

“How badly, though?” He holds her gaze as he slows to a stop, buried inside her. “What would you do…”

The wrench drags lower on her body until it's nearly touching her clit, just close enough the weight of it pulls on her skin.

“... to get me to touch you?”

Carolina tries to roll against him, but seated on the workbench, she can't move the way she needs in order to take him deeper, to keep them moving. She bites her lip for show, but the groan of frustration that escapes her is genuine. “Anything. Name it. It's yours. I'll do it.”

York lowers his voice to a growl.

“Beg.”

Heat instantly floods Carolina’s cheeks and she leans back, closing her eyes. “Please. Please, York.” She squirms again, then gasps as he starts to move again, tortuously slow. “Oh god…”

“N-nothing feels as good as you do.” There is a tick as her mind grinds to a halt, lost in his movement, and it isn't until he stops that she snaps out of it. “Fuck. I need....need your hands. I need your t-touch. York,” and he shifts against inside her, making her next word a moan. “York, god please. It's d-driving me cra- fuck- crazy, having you in me, wanting you so much. Please… faster. Your hands… your cock.... I need you. Please, York?” She lifts her head, face absolutely burning as she forces herself to meet his eyes. “Please?”

“Keep going,” he murmurs, his words gentle but his voice absolutely wrecked with need as he rubs around her clit with his wrench. “And touch yourself-- here.”

Carolina shifts her weight, resting more comfortably as she brings her hand up between her legs. She tries to keep her eyes on him, but as soon as her fingers start to move, she moans and closes them without thinking.

He stops, and the noise she makes is nearly enough to have him come right there. “Keep talking,” he insists, kissing her as he runs a hand down her arm, stroking his fingertips across her knuckles.

“Fuck--" Swallowing hard, she tries again to meet his eyes before giving up and letting her own roll back. “God, York… I need to come. Please...d-dont stop. Please…”

“I won't, I won't,” and he means it - his words are sweet with promise, heavy with want. “Just keep talking, keep telling me what you want, what you need. Anything. Your voice is so sexy like this, when I’ve got you on the ropes.” York kisses the bottom of her chin. “Keep saying dirty things to your dirty man, and I’ll fuck you any which way you like.”

Carolina’s groan feels like it might tear her apart. “Slow… go s-so slow, York. And deep.” She arches her wrist under his hand to encourage his touch as she bites her lip hard. “Show me how deep you c-- oh god, York -- show me how deep you can go. Show me how deep --” her voice drops, barely more than a whisper, “-- you're gonna plant yourself in me.”

Once again, his control slips. Once again he sinks his teeth into the tender skin of her neck as his breath goes hot and shallow, growling on the edges. “So deep, Carolina,” and his voice barely sounds like him with how hoarse is it, how much it comes out a snarl. 

He places his palm on her lower stomach, adds just enough pressure that they can both feel him moving inside her. He eases out slowly, centimeters at a time, but when he pushes back in its fast and hard, jolting the workbench.

“So deep we won't be two people anymore, just one. You’ll be--” he breaks off to let her gasp as he thrusts. “-- as dirty as me. That good? You like that? You want that, my love?”

“Yes. Make me dirty. I want to be covered in you, filthy with you. I want you to stain me so I can never get you out of my skin.” Carolina gasps as he jolts against her again. “York…fuck...”

“Can't have both,” he whispers in her ear, taking the lobe in his teeth and sucking on it. “Gotta choose. You want me deep, or you want me to get all over you?” 

Why they even bother with condoms when they both love his come is beyond him. 

Carolina only hesitates a second. “All over me, dirty boy. Make a mess of me.”

“Then come for me,” he breathes, releasing her hand to brace both of his above her head, hold himself up at the perfect angle to kiss her senseless. “Like I know you need.”

She cries out against his mouth as she picks up her pace. It doesn't take long.

She gives no warning, her breath catching as her back arches. Her body bucks as wave after wave of her orgasm hits her, and she locks up tight around York, around his waist and his cock. In turn, he wraps his arms around her, lifting her half off the workbench to clutch her to his chest.

“That's it, there we go--” York murmurs in her ear, the only sign of his desperation in the grip he has on her, holding her close and warm as he rocks against her. “God, damn, if-- if you want me to come on your stomach you're gonna have-- have to let me go,” he reminds her as her shudders start to die down.

Her body responds on its own, unlocking, relaxing around him as the waves of pleasure slow, then still. Limbs growing heavy, her ankles uncross behind his back and legs dragged down by gravity. Carolina opens her eyes enough to see him. 

“Come for me.”

It feels like the floor drops out from him; even after all these years, even when he can expect it, the impact of her words always hits him to the bones. He can hardly pull out of her fast enough, pull off the condom and spill onto her in time. His hand, dry and grimy, isn't the best feeling on his cock but he’s so far gone it doesn't matter, and he watches with parted lips as he paints pearlescent lines and spots across her torso.

Carolina watches with the same rapturous fascination. When the last drops fall, she reaches out to touch it, to drag her fingers through it, leaving wide smears low across her belly. She reaches for his hand and presses it down, under hers. “Soon,York. I promise.”

“I miss you so much,” he whispers, and kisses her again.

“I know.” She can't bear to pull away from him to speak, so the words are pressed into his lips instead, offered to his mouth. “I know. I miss you too. But soon. It will be worth the wait.”

He doesn't have a response for that - not a verbal one, at least. Just more kisses, gentle and sweet. York tucks himself back inside his clothes and wraps Carolina’s cardigan around her shoulders as he picks her up. Her legs are loose around his waist, and he cradles her against his chest.

“Come on. Lets go get cleaned up, okay?”

“Mmm. Sounds okay to me.” Wrapping her arms around him, Carolina presses one last kiss to his lips before nestling down against his neck, nuzzling him softly as York starts to walk them back to the house. It isn't far, but the wind is picking up, and she tightens her grip, clutching at him for warmth.

He murmurs soothingly into her shoulder. “I've got you, it's okay,” and a dozen other sweet words as he fumbles the door open, steps through and then kicks it closed, locking the cold out behind them.


End file.
